To anyone watching, they had both just scored a serious victory. Even the judges wouldn't be able to tell that Max had cheated and tried to sabotage Drake.
Words mattered little to him, but Max had just declared war.
Drake shoved Max to the sand using a touch more than normal strength, just enough to sting. "What the hell, man? Are you so desperate to win, and so afraid of me, that you would cheat?"
Max's eyes turned cold, but he pushed himself up and stared at Drake. "I don't know what you're talking about, but do that again and I'll make sure you're disqualified from the final round."
A group had formed, drawn into the drama. Drake passed his board to Brad and stormed off toward the showers to cool down before he blew it for good.
The warm sand squished under his feet, and the hot sun blazed down on his head.
He stripped off his wetsuit and stood under the showers, letting the warm water wash away the sand, salt and anger. Today could change his life forever; he just needed to keep his cool and ignore Max.
He'd been so absorbed in his rage, he hadn't noticed the buzz of warning under his skin that someone was watching him.
By the time he felt it, it was too late.
Something stung his shoulder.
He reached around and pulled out a dart. His thoughts swirled around in his head and his recent clarity gave way to a jumble of incoherent ramblings.
"Dude, are you all right?"
A voice spoke to him, but male or female, he couldn't tell. His vision blurred and he slumped onto the wet cement, the now cold water spraying over him until it ran out of time and stopped.
"Drake, you'll be okay. Come on, boy."
Another voice he didn't recognize. He reached out with his mind to stop whoever was touching him, but nothing happened. His power didn't work. Then he felt it, the compulsion to obey directed at him as someone siphoned his powers from him.
When hands pulled him away from the familiar noises, he tried to fight with his muscle.
"Damn it, he's still too strong. Get him to the van, quick."
"Don't worry," one voice said to the other. "Drake, you will relax and walk quietly to the van with us. You will not put up a fight or make any noise."
He nodded, stood and walked forward.
Before Drake could process anything more, a painful whack to his head sent him tumbling into darkness.
The leader yelled at whoever had hit him, and then Drake lost consciousness.
***
That day had been life-changing, just not they way he'd hoped or imagined.
Drake wondered if his blood still stained the block of cement his attackers had used to bash in his head that day, after hitting him with a tranquilizer gun from afar. Overkill, much? They hadn't underestimated his strength, at least.
Still, not all was lost. The priest's words gave him hope. They could form a plan. They had help. They were not alone.
But how did the priest know so much? Was he really psychic?
A shout from behind pulled him out of his thoughts. "Drake!"
Kylie the Beach Bunny, as she liked to be called, hadn't changed a bit. Bits of a silver string bikini hugged her curvaceous form as if it were painted on. Her bleach blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in artificial curls. Pretty much everything about Kylie was artificial, actually. Drake could not for the life of him remember why he'd ever hooked up with such a shallow creature.
Drake hadn't turned around all the way when Kylie slipped her slender arm around his waist and pressed her body against his back.
His skin crawled at her touch.
She leaned in close to his ear, her voice a contrived throaty whisper. "I've been missing you, Drakey boy. Nobody has ever had the stamina you do."
"Drake?"
Oh, shit.
Drake turned to face the last person he wanted to see in that moment.
Sam.
Chapter 29 – Sam
I couldn't breathe. My heart sank to my feet and waited for death to extinguish its last few remaining beats.
Drake stood there with a gorgeous Victoria Secret model-type wrapped around him like one of those little monkeys on the Discovery Channel.
A chemical reaction in my brain wiped out any thought or reason, and before I could stop myself, I knocked the woman to the ground using mind control. Her perfect yoga ass hit the sand, and her face contorted into a comical mask of shock and disbelief.
Drake looked... proud? Ugh. Not the reaction I wanted from him.
He reached out for my hand. "Sam, it's not what it looks like. She showed up and... it just... nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. I swear to you." 'Read my mind. You'll know I'm telling the truth.'
I did. Not everything I learned helped the situation—like the fact that he'd slept with this tramp before he met me. But I also felt his revulsion. He couldn't stand her touch or her presence, and wanted nothing to do with her.
That made two of us.